The Easter Egg Rule

It's Easter weekend. One of my favorites, going way back.

When I was little, some of my cousins would come down from up north for Easter. Saturday night meant one thing — dyeing Easter eggs at the kitchen table. The vinegar smell, the little wire dipper, those fizzing dye tablets that turned the water colors that had no business being that pretty. It was one of those rituals that just felt like something.

But here's the thing about dyeing Easter eggs with cousins — it was absolutely a competition. Nobody said it out loud, but everybody knew. Who could make the coolest egg? Not the most eggs. The coolest egg. You could see people plotting. Taking their time with the wax crayon before the egg ever hit the dye. Layering colors. Thinking it through.

I have this memory of my cousin Amy wearing one of those paper egg holders as a crown. Someone had linked several of them together so it was more of a real crown than a little tiara. She was probably in her twenties. I was in grade school. She looked completely regal and completely ridiculous and it was perfect. She hasn't made it down for Easter in a long time. I still think about that picture every single year.

I've shared a couple of photos here from some of our egg dyeing sessions over the years — one from 2014, one from 2017. That troll egg with the purple hair and sunglasses? That's not an accident. That is intention. That is someone who came to the table with a plan. I haven't gotten to dye eggs in a few years now, but I'm thinking tomorrow might be the day I fix that.

What does any of this have to do with auctions? Bear with me.

It's not about how many you get done. It's about how you do them.

I think about that sometimes in the middle of catalog work — when we're staring down hundreds of lots and the pressure is just move, move, move. And the temptation is to blur through it. Slap a description on it, grab a photo, next lot. But the eggs that won the unspoken competition weren't the ones that got done fastest. They were the ones somebody actually thought about.

A well-described lot with a good photo sells.

The cousins who took their time at that table — who were patient with the process even when the little kids were being chaotic and the vinegar smell was getting to everybody — those were the ones who ended up with something worth looking at.

That's the Easter Egg Rule. Do it right. Take your time with the wax crayon part. The dye comes later.

Happy Easter, everyone. I hope your weekend involves people you love, something good to eat, and at least one egg that turned out better than you expected. And if you haven't dyed eggs in a few years — maybe tomorrow is your day too.

�� HOPPY Bidding!
Kara C. Belcher-Miller